


Hopscotch

by bowiesnippleantennae



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-01
Updated: 2011-11-01
Packaged: 2017-10-25 14:56:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowiesnippleantennae/pseuds/bowiesnippleantennae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for my friend who is the author of a Homestuck AU called betastuck.<br/>Vriska is John's new roommate and things clash at first, but they say opposites attract!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Betastuck](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/5187) by nope--chucktesta. 



"No, I'm fine. Really, Vriska. You don't have to worry about it. Just, uuh... Just give me a sec, okay?"  
You stop your continuous knocking and lower your hand, slowly. But you don't move from your spot in front of his door. You had been quite surprised when he came home, ignored your greetings and walked straight to his room, locking his door. He never locked his door. This could only mean something was wrong and you didn't want to have to deal with him being mopey for any sort of period of time.  
Things weren't exactly awkward or uncomfortable in your shared apartment, and he was as close of a friend as you have ever had with someone you only meant a week ago, So you figure the least you could do was see if he needed a shoulder to cry on. What a baby. Was he really a grown man?  
You knock again.

"John, do you seriously think I would believe that bullshit? You scared the piss out of me when you just barged in like that and then ran to your room, sniffling like a girl..."

"I'm not crying."

Your face falls into the most unamused expression that is physically possible. You jiggle the door knob and demand he let you in. "Did something happen at school? Were you fired from your job, or something? Was it because of What's-His-Name?"

"Dave."

"So it was because of him. Did you try talking to him? Augh, seriously, John. This door is really getting on my fucking nerves. What's the point of responding to me if you're just going to stay hidden?" You stop and wait for him to respond and he doesn't. Whatever. You tried, at least, which is more than you usually do for people who disrupt you from your daily routines.

Just as you are about to turn away, you hear rustling from the other side of the door and the knob jiggle. John opens the door with a look that you never even thought his face could make. Something in your mind clicks and you are without a doubt certain you never want him to make that face again. He steps aside and lets you into his room and you walk in silently. His bed creaks when you sit on it and you busy yourself with the many posters on his wall until he is ready to join you and talk things out.

"Okay, yeah, I went to go talk to Dave because I feel a little on the guilty side and I would love to have my friend back, but Tavros said he wasn't home, so I left. But, of course, when I was walking back to my bike, I hear music coming from his room. So, he actually was home but he probably told Tavros and Sollux to lie about it if I ever came over... Which, I guess means he doesn't care about mending this friendship." John lowers his head and his tightly clasped hands in his lap shake slightly. This is not okay with you. Your brows furrow and you feel your bottom lip push out in a small frown.

"That's really fucking shitty of him, John."

John just lowers his head even further and you mentally kick yourself for doing the opposite of what you meant.

"I just can't believe he wouldn't even care to hear me out... like... like what if everything would go back to how it used to be if I just manned up and apologized? And if he'd let me..." He lays back on the bed in a huff and stares thoughtfully at the ceiling. You follow suit, but leaning on your side with your arm propped up so you could make sure he didn't start crying. Honestly, where would this loser be without your helping hand? You pity the poor asshole…

"Well, I say you can do one of two things. You could either ignore it and move on with your life, like I would. Oooooooor you could give him some space and try again. Though, I think you would probably just get the same results. Strider sounds like a really fucking stubborn guy."

John stays quiet, his brows furrowing as he obviously contemplates your perfect advice. You can't understand why he would need to, though. The right answer was obvious as soon as you hinted at which one YOU would do. Boys, they are just so slow. Your sympathy goes out to him for being born under the least fortunate sex when he suddenly turns to you, snapping you out of your daydream.

"Either way, I'm glad I have you to talk to about this... and, like... that you actually care" You didn't "to force me to open up. It would've sucked if I just let myself stew in self-pity for the rest of the day." He then beams you a genuine, toothy(really toothy) smile and you find yourself staring, wide-eyed at it until his face falls and he's asking you if you were still with this world.

You clear your throat, embarrassed that he caught you staring. You don't know why you were staring. It was probably because of how obvious his teeth are. Yeah. That's what it was. "Whatever, Egderp. I just couldn't stand the thought of you mucking up the atmosphere of MY home with your sads." You push his shoulder and he laughs and goes with the force, falling over onto his back again. That wasn't exactly the reaction you were expecting, but happiness suits his face better than anguish and since you have basically completed what you set out to do, you allow yourself to revel in self-satisfaction. You mentally pat yourself on the back. Good girl. Best roommate.


	2. Chapter 2

That was it. That was the second time you had ever lost a shooter. He beat you by 5 whole kills. This was unprecedented. This was not how things are supposed to go and you will have none of that.

"Best ten out of thirty."

"Vriska, are you really that butthurt over a little loss?" John laughs wholeheartedly and claps a hand on your shoulder. You wish you could burn objects with just a glare.

"How are you this good... Like, how are YOU THIS. GOOD."   
John laughs again, you are losing patience. "Seriously? I never really expected a girl to be this competitive at video games!"

You snap your gaze back to his face again and put your controller down. He doesn't seem to notice.

"I mean, really! Hahahahaha! You are probably one of those tournie types... the ones that take it really seriously... Wow, I don't know if I should be pleased to have someone like you living with me or embarrassed!"

You bunch your hands into fists. He still hasn't noticed through his continuous banter the anger that is building up within you. He will pay... Oh, how he will pay.

"Hahaha... Oh, wow. Okay, I think I got it all out of my system... Uhhhh, Vriska?"

He finally notices how close your face has gotten to his, and how angry you look, and also that you've grabbed the collar of his shirt in quite a threatening manner.

"Whoa, now. There is no reason to be this pissed off! It's just a video game." He laughs again and you suppress the urge to... to... you don't know what, but it would be something! And it would hurt him in SOME way, you are certain. You push him away and turn back towards the TV, pouting which is not your style, but you can't seem to help it.

"Do you want to play another round? Seriously?"

You give him one curt nod and pick up your controller. You play another round and this time, you win but only by a little. Your head snaps in his direction as he slaps a hand to his forehead and groans, dramatically.

"AAAUGH... You got me, this time! You're really good at this game."

"You let me win." It's not a question and to your pleasure, he stops giving you that shit-eating smile.  
"N-no... I didn't." He looks back at the TV, obviously nervous. He did let you win, the swine!

"You let me win! You did, didn't you, you dick!" You get on your knees and he scoots away from you, looking everywhere but where your eyes are on your face.

"I swear! You won because you're that good! I swear! Vriska, you're kinda... kinda scaring me..." You see his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps nervously. Good. He should be nervous. He has no idea who he's messed with.

He makes a little yelp and tries to scurry away as you prepare yourself to pounce on him. He might be able to beat you in a video game, but the squirrely boy couldn't possibly beat you in brute strength.

You leap, he kicks at you and you latch onto one of his legs. They are stronger than you expected but no matter, it's not like he's already kicked you off or anything. And he's scared shitless meaning you basically have the upper hand.

"Wah! Vriska! Haha!" He has the audacity to laugh! He still isn't taking you seriously. You feel like a dog trying to gain her alpha title in the pack that is your small, two bedroom apartment. You crawl up his body and you notice that you have been chuckling darkly which has John shaking in his boots. Good. "Whoa, there..."

He puts his hands on your shoulders to try to keep you back but that won't help. You grab his hands and pry them off of you, easily as you expected and begin to wrestle with him for dominance. He yelps and laughs and struggles but this is no game. You are in for the kill and the kill means him at least crying and begging at your feet for forgiveness. But he hasn't given up yet and you're actually feeling a little on the weak side. Was this his plan all the time? To further embarrass and humiliate you? You will have neither of these things happen. You feel strength come back as your new determination is lit like a fire.

"John. Egbert," you hiss through clenched teeth. He laughs in response. "I will teach you. To never. Disrespect. Muh-" The hands that were firmly on his wrists slip from the sweat that has now coated both of you and you fall.

Your eyes are snapped shut and all you hear is heavy breathing and his shrill laughter. He is in stitches. He is in stitches and he is... holding onto you? You try to pull back but he won't let up. This is the mightiest of bear hugs, you are certain.

"Let go!!" He won't, he just keeps laughing. And now, he's slowly rocking you both back and forth. This is madness. "Ugh! You fucking creeper! Let me go, right now!" His laughter slows down and he just smiles up at you.

What.

"I will smack that smile right off your face."   
"Haha! You won't!"

"Don't fucking try me, Egbert..."

"Oooh, feisty! Hahahaha!"

"I swear to God, if you don't let me go... I'll... I'll..."

"You'll what... Smack me? Your landlord? Haha!"

You have met your match. There is suddenly a small pile of feelings deep in your chest and it isn't stopping from getting taller. He hasn't let you go and you haven't really tried to get away. You aren't the touchy-feely type, and you never really cared if you were or not. This, though... This was making you reconsider. In the back of your mind, a small voice notes on the reason why people like the company of others and why they get so emotionally involved in relationships. It feels nice, but enough of that. Any more sweetness and your teeth will start to ache. You will end this now.

"No..." You put your hand on his face and push away with all your might, his head twisting uncomfortably enough that he gets the hint and lets go. He laughs again as you get up and fix your shirt that had been moved in all different directions during the struggle and smooth out your ruffled hair. You are going to walk away from this with at least most of your dignity intact. He chooses to stay on the floor and ogle up at you.

"No hard feelings, right? I was just joking!" He beams at you a blinding smile. You’re sure the reason it’s so bright is because the light reflects off of his teeth and not because it’s so genuine and beautiful that it makes you want to look away because you are not worthy of such happiness.

You snort a response to that and strut victoriously to your room. But it's only exterior. As soon as you're alone in your room to plop down on your bed, face-first and to your much chagrin, your heart is all a twitter and your face is hot. You know this isn't from the exercise you just endured because there are all these feelings attached to them, that it's unmistakable. You nuzzle your face into your pillow to get the sensation of his arms off of your body and try to think about anything else but why that made you actually HAPPY.

You fail miserably. But this is the first time you can remember where failure doesn't make you want beat yourself up over it. You smile and kick your legs, trying to release this pent up--whatever it is-- out of you because you swear you are about to overflow!

And your heart grows two sizes, that day.


	3. Chapter 3

The sun felt good on your skin. How lucky are you to have a place with the most bitching of balconies? I mean, usually, apartments have tiny, claustrophobic balconies where you could only fit, either your bike or one chair. But this one, this one was special. There were perks to living in such a small apartment, nice outside perks, and you are taking full advantage of that. You aren't starting school for another two months and it was your day off from work. John wasn't home and the place was as clean as you'd care enough to make it. It was like the universe was saying, "Damn, Vriska. You've been working hard lately, being a good roommate and all. You deserve some R & R. I'm going to make the weather perfect for you to tan under. You're welcome, kiddo."

You moan happily and stretch out your limbs. If only you had a servant to bring you out more sweet tea... and should that servant add some vodka to that sweet tea, well they would definitely be on the same page. Where was John? Would he pick up some booze for you on his way home? You contemplate getting your phone and texting him, but it's all the way over there and you don't want to move.

But you could go for a drink... Did John drink? Now, you have to ask and you mentally kick your curious side. The phone is in your hand in seconds and you're fingers move easily across the keyboard of your phone as you ask the big question. He answers in seconds, which surprises you, but good. Punctuality is very becoming in a man. Especially when said man might be bringing home the goods.

'Oh damn, I didnt think youd be the party type! guess thats fine! Were out of some stuff, anyway... is there anything you want in particular?'

You answer with whatever will get the job done and send it. 'and thanks, john.' is added, just because he's being cooperative and you'd feel bad if you didn't thank the doofus. What would be really funny, is if he joined you in a little drink. What kind of drunk would Egbert be, you wonder as you lay back down and cross your hands behind your head.   
'I bet he's a light weight...' you muse to yourself, chuckling inwardly. 'I bet he's a light weight and he cries. Oh man, that would be the funniest thing to deal with while being smashed...'   
__

"Honey, I'm home." You hear him call out but you're still lying down on the balcony and you still don't want to get up. The sun is starting to set but that just makes it even nicer out here. He slides the door open and quickly stumbles back into the apartment, apologizing "Wow, sorry! I didn't know you were... uh..."

"What? Did you buy the booze, like I asked?" He nods and looks anywhere but your face. What's his problem? Never seen a girl in a bathing suit before. What a fucking virgin. You point it out and laugh at his angered reply.

"Sh-shut up! I just haven't found Ms. Right, yet... Sorry for having MANNERS and treating you like the delicate flower you are!"

Good one. No, seriously... You liked that comeback, a lot. Maybe he wasn't the idiot nerd you always seem to make him out to be.

You push your sunglasses up to the top of your head and let them rest there while you rummage through the groceries for the goods. You pull out a bottle of Southern Comfort. "So Co? Really..."

John looks up from putting vegetables in the bottom drawer of the fridge, "Yeah, is something wrong? It was on sale, so... I got two bottles. Don't tell me that's not enough..."

"It should last us one night..."

"Us?"

"I'm not drinking alone, you idiot!" You laugh at his discomfort. You cannot believe he's this straight edge. What a mixed-match pair you two are. This could be a sitcom, it's so uncanny. "You'll be drinking some, too! Don't worry, son. Daddy won't let you get too crazy. I'll keep an eye on your alcoholic intake as much as my coherency lasts... but after that, you're on your own. Which won't be bad since It'll take most of the liquor to get me that gone..." You laugh and he nervously goes back to putting the groceries away.  
__

Your dinner consists of frozen pizza heated in the oven and a salad made by Dork-of-the-Year.

After much arguing over, you give up and change out of your bathing suit. You don't understand why he wants you to... and he definitely doesn't understand how comfortable the little yellow thing is but he refuses to make dinner if you stay "dressed like that," so you relent and grudgingly change into something "less revealing." Just to get back at him, you put on a loose fitting t-shirt that belonged to an ex of yours. He bought it at the first date you two went on. It was a Klang concert and you were so thrilled that you made him a man that night and he let you keep the shirt you woke up in. You will make a note to tell John every story connected to this t-shirt in hopes that it will make him even more uncomfortable than that bathing suit ever would.

You forget to when he brings the pizza out, though. Damn your one-track mind. As you shovel food into your mouth, he sits next to you on the couch and turns on the tv.

"I have drank before, you know." he says off-handedly, channel surfing but not really paying attention to what is on the screen. You swallow your food and give him a sly look.

"Aah? What's this, now? John actually is a big boy? Do you go potty all by yourself, too?" He laughs and chucks a throw pillow at you which you successfully smack away.

"Shut up, of course I do. I've been to a few frat parties and everything."   
"Oh really? What's your poison, then Egbert..."

"Rum." Like pirates. Because the idiot has a thing for pirates. Your thoughts choose to make fun of him for his stupid obsession and ignore the fact that you have a jolly roger flag hanging up over your bed at this very moment and Every Pirates movie you could get your greedy little hands on, on DVD... even the pornos. Both of them.   
"But you bought whiskey..."

"I liked the name... haha and I figured you'd be okay with anything, so I wanted to try something new with my new roommate!"

His smile makes your heart skip, which is preposterous because your heart beats perfectly, all of the time.   
Dinner is finished in silence, for the most part and after you both shower and get into pjs, the bottles are opened and you find yourself sitting on the floor in the living room, downing your glass because John said you couldn't.

"OOOOH!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU JUST DID THAT!!! You're fucking CRAZYYY..." He slurs and his voice is louder than usual, but so is yours and you're too drunk to care about that, anyway. Nothing annoys buzzed Vriska! Everything is beautiful to you, right now, especially John's eyes and you catch yourself staring into the color with a dumb face, twisting a laugh out of said boy.

"sh-shut up... I said I was going to finish most of the booze and I AM... so... fuck you..." he laughs the entire time you talk and you find out how contagious it is. Another round of whiskey is poured and everything becomes easier and easier to talk about.

"Yeah, it's like... who the fuck CARES what I do with my life?"

"Right?! Haha!"

"If I don't want to go to school... who the fuck are you to tell me how disappointed you are in me!? Just 'cause I don't fit the mold... God damn..." You take another swig and burp. John laughs at you again and you mumble an 'excuse me...' under your breath before continuing your ranting. "And then she expects me to find a 'nice boy' and settle down... pop out grandkids for her so she has something to DO all day... fuck that. Vriska Serket don't live for NO ONE else..."

"You never thought about having... uuh, kids?" John takes another sip and you 'pfft' at his question.

"Me? With kids? I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly kid friendly... Can you imagine how easily children 24/7 would drive me up the fucking wall? God damn, thinking about it just... rustles up my jimmies." You both laugh and John's face falls into a contemplative expression.

"What about getting married?"

"whatever happens, happens. I haven't exactly found the right guy yet, know what I'm saying?"

"Yeah..."

"And what about you? What's a fine... strapping young tyke like you, rooming with a babe but completely single? You gay?"

"What? No! I am not a homosexual... D-DON'T LAUGH!! I've... dated before... It just, never really worked out, obviously..." He looked at the rim of his cup in his lap and you take another sip, trying not to sympathize with him. This was supposed to be fun time, not pity time. "I guess, I'm like you... just waiting for someone to come to me and be able to deal with my quirks, too." He smiles at you but it's sad and you suddenly wonder if he had been hurt terribly by someone he loved and trusted. Who the fuck would do that to him? You could see yourself tearing the bitch up if you ever met her... or him... you're still suspicious.

A few more cups go down and John has had his fill of alcohol because he is slumped down in your lap, mumbling incoherently and you are just drunk enough to not care entirely about whether he's going to throw up all over you or not. But, it's late, you want to pass out and you're sure he's going to soon, so you pet his hair out of his eyes and lean down to ask him if he can stand.

John blinks up at you, snorts and leans up, kissing you on the mouth.

John just drunkenly kissed you on the mouth.

You aren't smashed enough to make this go any further, but you shiver at the thought that if he was sober, you would probably take that little peck as an opportunity to get some action and you're not sure why. You shake those thoughts out of your head and help him stand up. He laughs and does absolutely nothing to help you while you drag him to his bed and get him comfortable. You even bring his waste paper basket over to the side of his bed and pour him a glass of water before petting his hair back and telling him what to do if he started to feel like puking.   
"Stay... with me..."

"What? No. I'm going to go to sleep, now."

He grabs your wrist, lazily and turns towards you, looking up with half-lidded eyes. If you didn't know how sleepy he is, you would describe them as bedroom eyes.

"You can sleep in here... I have a big bed..."

"No, John, I am going to sleep in my own bed."

"Then, I'll come with you..."

"God damn, you're a clingy little fuck!"

He laughs again and you wrench your wrist out of his grasp and pet his hair until his breath evens out and you're sure he's out cold.

What a night.

Your bed is welcoming when you finally lay down in it and you will probably have a hangover in the morning but it was actually an enjoyable night and you find yourself genuinely happy to be where you are in life right now.  
You then promptly lean over the side of your bed and hurl all over the floor. Good night.


	4. Chapter 4

"Are you an imaginary number, because your body is unreal."

You open your eyes half way and stare at John incredulously. You had been busy resting while he made dinner in the kitchen, with his little am/fm radio on the local classic rock station. You let the staticy music and fresh smells of herbs and meat lull you into a comfortable twilight sleep until you were rudely forced back into reality by the same person who relaxed you enough to get you there. You glare up at the ceiling where his face now occupies and push him away. "Are you retarded?"

"Haha! Did you like that?"

"No, why would I like anything like that, John. If you're going to throw puns at your roommate at least make them about something cool..."

"Like spiders."

"Yeah, sure."

"You're the weird one. Who honestly enjoys watching spiders make webs in the corners of their rooms?"

"A lot of people do."

"I'm sure."

"And they keep the other bugs away!" You sit up and take the plate of steaming food from him, scooting over on the couch so that he could also have some place to sit. It was his couch, after all. If it had been your own, you wouldn't have been as giving.

The loser happily plops down next to you. "Right... But what if you get bitten by one? You could get really hurt, you know. People go to the hospital for spider bites..." He gives you the most concerned face anyone has ever given you and your heart sinks a bit. You shovel food into your mouth to distract yourself from the feeling.

"Thanks, MOM... but I know which spiders are dangerous and which aren't. And if I get bit, then I get bit and I'll go to the damn hospital. That's what health insurance is for, anyway." You take another mouthful and the conversation better be over with.

Lucky for you, he lets the issue drop but you glare down at your food as an unfamiliar feeling of dissatisfaction wells up in the pit of your stomach and a small voice in your head chimes in with a, 'You didn't have to be so harsh. He was genuinely concerned with your wellbeing!' Your brows furrow in further until you are staring daggers into your plate and John asks if the food is so bad that it makes you that angry.

__

"Vris... Vriska, wake up."

You blink your eyes open to find that John's face is the only thing you can see. You reel back and gasp in shock before burrowing deep into your comforter, half hiding from the sun and half hiding the blush on your face. You hear him sigh and then feel his hand press softly on top of your blanket, shaking it slightly.

"Vriska, seriously, it’s two in the afternoon and I know it's your day off but I have a surprise for you!"  
Your head pops out of your blanket which was a stupid thing to do because you head butt John in the process. But he said he had a surprise for you and if there is one thing Vriska Serket likes, it's when people do shit for you.   
You both writhe for a few seconds, clutching your respective heads before John's laugh breaks the silence and you pout up at him, you really need to stop pouting, though. You are not a 5-year-old.

"A-Anyway... the reason I'm waking you up right now is that I have a surprise for you tonight and also it's your turn to do the dishes. They're starting to really smell." The smug, little bastard. Does he really expect you to wake right up and clean on your day off? He has another thing coming if he thinks you'll compl- wait, there is a surprise for you tonight that he has gotten for you? What could it be? This better not be part of his fucking prank gambit because the first time around was annoying enough. You distantly recall sitting down on a strategically placed whoopie cushion a few weeks back. You had chased him around the house until he locked himself in the bathroom. You then waited outside, rhythmically tapping on the door and singing him the sweetest of death threats. He had complimented your voice and that's when you grudgingly sulked back into your room to distract yourself with something else that had nothing to do with cuteness or John.

You spend the rest of the day trying to pry out any hints you can as to what the surprise is but John refuses to cooperate. He knows exactly what to do to push your buttons and this is completely alien to you. Usually, it's the other way around. Tavros is the easiest to upset. You could say anything at all to him and he becomes a stuttering mess. You fondly regard how easily pissed Terezi gets whenever you play any video game with her. Even in rping, she is always out to get you under the false pretense of "justice." Your are so sure, it is just because she has this complex where she has to be better than you, but you know it's all for naught. No one surpasses Vriska Serket in anything. But, now you are living with a man who has not fallen under your gaze even once. He has yet to completely cower after enduring one of your more harsh verbal explosions. Whenever you lunge at him to really hurt him, he takes it in strides and laughs it off like it's SOME KIND OF JOKE. This boggles you. How can a human being be this immune to such, for a lack of a better term, bad vibes. You know you're a negative person. You know you take joy in making others upset from just words alone. John is on the other side of this personality spectrum and you are surprised at how okay everything seems to be going. At least, you think it's okay. He might just be putting up with you like everyone else so that he can live somewhere. He can't afford this place alone, after all. This thought suddenly makes you sad and you aren't sure why.   
When nighttime rolls around, John tells you to wear something for a "night on the town." Is he taking you on a date? Will he be paying for whatever it is you both are doing? You are suddenly self-conscious and have no idea what to wear. You ring up Kanaya to ask for advice and she tells you to get on webcam so that she can properly assess your outfits.

You try on about 5 different t-shirt and jean combinations, none of which fly with your friend. You throw the last pair of jeans down on the floor in a huff and kick your closet door closed before throwing yourself on the bed and steadying the bouncing laptop.

"Well, shit what the fuck else am I supposed to wear?" You grumble at your computer and Kanaya's sigh comes out of the speakers.

"Something that shows off your better physical features, of course. If this really is a date, like you say, then you want to show that you can also be girly and sexy, as opposed to this tom boy you have seemed to grown up into. Most girls grow out of that phase, you know. I guess you never got the memo."

"OH HA HA HA. I just don't give a shit about appearances. I thought that was, you know, a cool thing to do."

"It's certainly valiant of you, but it's not realistic." Kanaya taps on her keyboard, obviously browsing on some website while she talks with you. Can't even give you her full attention, can she? Why were you putting up with this, again?

"Well, do you have any suggestions?" You give up and ask.

"I do have one idea, but it would require you doing exactly what I say and also letting me come over."

You relent and Kanaya shows up at your apartment in 10 minutes. John answers the door and she rushes by him, grabbing your arm and dragging you into the bathroom. She shoves a shopping bag into your arms and tells you change into that and to not put up any resistance. If you want her help, you are going to have to do everything she says. Which is exactly what happens. You put on the flowy shirt and stare at yourself in distain as it hangs off of one of your shoulders. You promised, though and Kanaya knows what she's talking about, APPARENTLY, so you put the rest of the outfit on. All there really is left in the bag is a pair of shorts and some boots.

"Hmm... It needs something else..." Kanaya taps on her chin thoughtfully and then, as if she were a fashion oracle, she takes off her own, skinny woven leather belt and puts it around the shirt, pulling up on the shirt a bit to make it drape over the belt. She smiles at you like you are her fucking masterpiece and the king himself is going to hang you up in his main hall.

She then sits you down on the toilet and applies eye makeup, which you protest immediately. You are ignored as she forces you to look up and "honestly, Vriska. It is not hard to keep from blinking for just a few more seconds." She sighs and tries again. You can't help it that it feels uncomfortable and that it makes your eyes water. She finishes up with some lipstick that, after arguing over for a few minutes, is a darker shade than what she would've wanted you to wear. But, she does admit that it suits you much better than pearl pink.

After that, she brushes your 'unruly hair,' as she calls it and puts it in a high pony tail. She straightens and curls back your bangs and then blasts you in the face with hair spray. You cough and yell at her but she just tells you to keep quiet, because you are ready for your mystery event with John.

Kanaya waves good-bye and John walks her out. You have refused to come out of the bathroom, as you have been staring at yourself for the last 5 minutes, not sure if you like what you see or not. What does it matter, anyway? He's just your roommate. He's seen you in the morning, he's seen you in a bathing suit... he's even seen you sitting on the couch in your underwear and a large shirt with your legs propped up on the coffee table. Why did it matter to look good right now of all times?

Because it was a date.

It was probably a date.


	5. Chapter 5

When John finally convinces you to come out of the bathroom, it's only because he reminds you that the whole reason you're dolled up is because of the surprise he has waiting for you.

When you slowly slink out of the bathroom, John's eyes are wide and you snap a vicious remark towards him, but to no avail! He continues to gape at you like some creep and you push his shoulder to jolt him out of staring. You flip your pony tail and smirk when he lets you out of the apartment first. Damn right, he better be a gentleman. If this is a date, then it's all on him. He has to make it worth your while.

You both walk to the front of your apartment and waiting in a van full of people is, to your surprise and distain, Terezi, Nepeta, Sollux, Jade, and Tavros. John greets everyone and laughs at all their hollering. You climb into the van and take your seat next to John in the very back. Jade turns to John from her seat in the middle and asks if you know what's going on yet and he tells her you don't. You don't like being talked about when you're sitting right there so you elbow John and he gives you an apologetic look.

"I... told everyone that I'm keeping this a secret from you... Sorry about this!" He beams up a huge smile and your anger wanes a little. You take to ignoring everyone's stupid banter for most of the ride and focusing on the part of your leg that is touching John's and controlling your heartbeat.

When you finally make it to your destination, you make note of the fact that you are in the heart of downtown, parking in a back lot of some shabby building and you are completely confused as to why you had to dress up when where you are seems to be COMPLETE SHIT. John helps you out of the van and that is very nice of him, so you thank him, reminding him that you are still waiting for find out just what the fuck is going on. It certainly can't be a date because your friends are here and that is the last thing you want to do when on a date with someone- share their attention with other people.

You follow the chattering group to an alleyway and through an iron door with graffiti covering it. You are now a little on the nervous side. John has lead you to an opium den where you will be drugged up and sold for two pounds of pure, Eastern opium. There, you will be ogled at by wealthy business men and sold again, to the highest bidder where he will then take you as his 12th wife and you have to stop watching Liam Neelson movies.

What it actually happens to be is a small, dark club, the music throbs and the people crammed in there move with it. You are completely surprised and you tug on John's shirt.

"Is this the surprise?"

He takes your hand and leads you further into the club before leaning in and yelling in your ear so that you could actually hear him. He smells really good, tonight. "Yeah! I used to come here all the time when... D-Dave and I were still friends. This is one of the venues he plays at. He's actually here tonight..."

You blink and look up at where the DJ equipment is set up and sure enough, there was the smug ass. The rest of their party had gone up to greet him and you catch him glancing at your direction when Terezi points out into the crowd. She probably told him that John had come, too. They are probably just trying to get the two boys to make up. You can understand their sentiments but those kinds of situations are better left untampered with. You would never bother in forcing two people who hate each other to talk against their will. John... did hate Dave, now... right?

This is when you notice John has scooted behind you to get out of Dave's gaze and you ask him the real reason he brought you along. "And why is this a surprise for me? I'm not exactly the social butterfly you must think I am..."

"No... I knew you wouldn't come if I had told you what it was! So I disguised it and tricked you! Which... I guess is kind of mean but I figured you would have fun if you just hung out with people more often."

You realize now that both of you have been idly dancing to the music and the proximity of your faces had closed in so that it was easier to converse. You are not sure if you're okay with this or not. You are usually not okay with anyone getting in your bubble, but given the circumstances and because this is John, you will let it slide for tonight.

You fall into silence partly because the music is so loud, making it annoying to talk and partly because the music is good and you legitimately want to dance to it. It seems that John is on the same wavelength because he seems to lose himself in the music, too. You wonder if it's because it's good or if it's really because Dave was the one who made it. You then begin to wonder what their fight had been about and if tonight would mean they would make up and become friends again and where would that leave you? Without a place to live is what. This is not a pleasant thought and you realize that you have started to glare and John has noticed. Your arms have somehow also slipped up to his shoulders and his hands are on your hips.

Hm. You are okay with this.

"What's with that face?" He laughs and you lean in to tell him that you were just thinking about things. "I hope those things weren't how bad of a dancer I am!" He laughs again and you can't help but smile.

The music continues to pulse through the club and you openly admit to actually enjoying yourself. You never thought being crammed in a small building with a bunch of sweaty strangers with your dork of a roommate would be this much fun, but it is! John seems to be enjoying himself, too but you notice him glancing at the DJ stand more than once throughout the night and that annoys the piss out of you.

At one point, you are sitting at one of the many couches that line the walls of the club with John, of course, and Sollux. John and Sollux are talking about something that you can't hear over the music and that grates on your nerves. You distract yourself by people watching and catch Nepeta and Tavros dancing. Wait, what? How the hell was he able to get into a situation like that and actually look... comfortable! You always knew him as the slobbering mess whenever it came to talking to the opposite sex- or to anyone, really. But, they seem to be enjoying themselves. You don't know how Nepeta can put up with so much awkward in so big of a body but if she can, God bless her.

You get bored of that scene and glance back to see if John and Sollux were still talking. Sollux seems to have left and John had leaned back and was tapping his foot to the beat.

"Sollux says Dave doesn't actually know I'm here. They told him you came but that I decided to stay home..."

You tilt your head, "Why would they lie like that... you actually did have the balls to come, you know."

He shrugs; there is still a faint smile on his face. How this idiot can smile and seem so relaxed when he really was unhappy is beyond you. "I guess they were afraid he'd throw a tantrum and leave... I dunno. I don't think he would. He would probably just spin shittier music."

"We don't have to be here."

"Hm?"

"I said we don't have to be here! We can leave if you're feeling uncomfortable. I don't care."

You both stumble out of the club and the silent night is loud in your ears as you try to adjust to the change in sound.

You offer to walk around and he gladly accepts, keeping up with you in stride. Your boots are killing your feet but you are happy to be out of such a claustrophobic atmosphere and the night air feels good on your skin. John has seemed to cheer up, too. That is to say, his smile is more genuine and wait a minute, how would you even know that?!

"I kinda lied to you in there..." John looks up at the sky and breathes out a little. "I mean, yeah I did want you to hang with people and have fun but the real reason I brought you along was because I was really scared. I didn't want to see Dave and I certainly didn't want him to see me."

You turn a corner and John leans against the side of a building. You contemplate taking off your shoes.

"I'm still really upset with him... and I would just love it if he'd come and talk to me, but he won't."

You really want to know what the fight was about, but for some reason, you know this is a taboo subject and for once in your life, you don't want to stir up a shit storm.

"Everyone invited me... probably in hopes that I'd start the apologizing, but I won't."

"You don't have to."

"Haha, you think so? Everyone thinks it's my fault. And who knows, they're probably right."

"I don't know what happened, but I don't see how anyone could really be mad at you, so in my eyes, Strider is a fucking idiot." You puff out and John stares at you before laughing again.

"Thanks for the sentiments, Vris... I appreciate that. Haha." He reaches out and ruffles your bangs and you push his hand away, hoping it's dark enough that the color of your face doesn't show.

"I just don't want to live with some depressed asshole, is all. Don't get the wrong idea." You playfully punch his arm.

"Ow! Hey!" he punches back and you both laugh and it's the cutest, most idiotic thing you have ever partaken in, but it's okay because there is no one else around; Just you, and John, and the cool breeze.


	6. Chapter 6

All you wanted was a little bit of "You" time. Was that so much to ask for? You figured that being all the way on the other side of the apartment complex at the public pool would mean that you didn't want to be disturbed, yet here he is... lying next to you on a lawn chair, yapping your ear off. Well, not exactly yapping. He makes comments about random things every so often. But, still. You aren't here to hang out with your roommate. If you wanted to be in his company, you would've just waltz right into his room and demand he pay attention to you. Not that you would really actually do that. You might, though; If you wanted to get back at him for something, which you might have to now considering what he is pulling.

"Oh, hey Vriska... Check that couple out. PDA, am I right? Haha."

"John." You finally snap. He is not going to waste another one of your days off. "That is really adorable and interesting and all things good, but I am trying to enjoy the sun and, you know, not having to work."

"Oh... sorry." He shuts his trap, finally and you settle down in Relaxationville and then are pulled out of it again when a, "You really like laying out in the sun, don't you?" invades your perfectly quiet personal bubble.

"You noticed?"

"Haha. Yeah!" He suddenly wants to take back how eager that sounded. "N-Not that I am paying a lot of attention to you..."

You eyebrow cocks.

"I mean, not that you aren't WORTH paying attention to! Or... Or anything... Jeez..." He seems to be beating himself up over that mess of blabber and you smile and close your eyes again. Let him stew in embarrassment for a little while. It'll keep him quiet so you can finally get your nap on.

After a while of trying to sleep, but not being able to because you are too focused on every single noise that comes from John's direction (you are not sure why), you decide you cool off by taking a dip in the pool. When you open your eyes to get up, you notice John has already beaten you to it and has-- wouldn't you know it-- made some friends.

You scrunch your nose in distain and saunter over to the pool, swaying your hips more than you usually do and catching the eyes of everyone who seems to notice. Your nose wrinkles again as you make a face after pointing out the fact that John wasn't one of those wondering eyes.

When you finally do get into the water, John swims up to you and laughs, per usual. You splash him in the face and smirk as he coughs up water, obviously not expecting you to be the kind of person to get someone when they least expect it. That was his first mistake.

His second is splashing you back.

You counterattack with your own splash and somewhere in the back of your head, you make note that this kind of friendly play-fighting happens a lot and it's only between you two. You aren't sure if it's because he is just like that or if because you are just too competitive to let things slide but you are definitely certain that you have not been like this with anyone else, before. This thought both excites and scares you.

The same people that John was talking to from before join in but your only target is your big-toothed roommate. You hope they will get the hint, soon because John cannot afford to splash anyone else but you, right now. You are not going to ease up on assaulting him with water just because his target changes to someone else. But it doesn't and the others sit back and watch instead. Good. You want an audience for when John forfeits.

He doesn't. And he doesn't seem to be letting up his attacks, either. You dive under and swim towards the shallow end where you hide behind some random pool goer. This gives you some time to catch your breath and plan your next move. Vriska Serket does not lose.

"You can't just hide behind people, that's cheating!" He laughs again when he doesn't hear a response come from you. There is no such thing as cheating in a splash fight. There is only win or lose, by any means necessary. Kind of like life– both the real thing and the board game.

While you are deep in thought, you hiding place moves and John pegs you right in the face with a handful of water. You cough and sputter his name and a few other choice words and he laughs and dives under water to retreat.

Dirty.

You like that.

You smirk before diving after him. If he wants to play like that, then you can play ten times worse. You catch up to him quickly enough and when he comes up for air, you are ready with your own barrage of water. His gasping mouth gets filled and he chokes and burps up water and you cackle maniacally.

"Dammit!" He curses out but you have already swum all the way to the other side of the pool while he was trying to get his breath.

He swims over to a ladder and climbs out. You have won. You let your victory be known to the rest of the pool and he looks embarrassed and beaten and in need of a hug from his mommy.

"Okay, okay. You won... this round." He walks over to where you are standing in the pool and gives you a hand, helping you out. You thank him despite yourself and that alone makes your cheeks tint.

When you make it back to your two bedroom apartment, John says you get dibs on the shower first because you won and you scoff and flip your hair and kindly take your prize.

While you are in there, you try not to think about today as being fun or enjoyable or anything that is close to be gushy and positive and definitely not anything affectionate towards your dumb John– you mean roommate. Dumb roommate. Maybe... Maybe friend.

John takes a shower after you and when he comes out all wet and steamy you cannot help but stare and wonder why this shitty place had one full bathroom and it was located in the hallway where everyone could see. You tell him without looking away that they are showing My Cousin Vinny on Comedy Central and his face lights up and he is running to his room to get change and you are certain you didn't wish for his towel to accidentally fall off– what is wrong with you?

He comes back out and jumps over the back of the couch, landing smoothly right next to you.

"That was pretty slick." He laughs bashfully at your compliment.

"Haha, no it was nothing... It's a requirement for every guy to have."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. How can someone even call themselves a man if they can't hop over a measly couch? Not cool."

You laugh and you're not sure why it wasn't even funny but you still think it is, regardless and he smiles at you. You have to admit, he is growing on you, whether you want him to or not and you think you might want him to. He's kind of like a fungus, but a really endearing fungus that laughs a lot and tells bad jokes and cooks for you– the kind that doesn't make you bad sick, but good sick. You are not sure what part of being sick is good... maybe the kind of sick that lets you stay home from class so that you can sleep in. Yeah, John is like the flu that comes just at the right moment, when you really don't want to wake up and leave your nice, warm bed.

Focus is set back on the TV and you enjoy the movie thoroughly, laughing and hollering and just having a really good time. John has a very good taste in movies, you have realized because it is much like your own. The movie becomes forgotten as you both discuss your favorite movies in every genre and then into listing your collection and getting excited over the DVDs he has that you do not and vice versa.

The rest of the night turns into the longest movie marathon you have ever had with another human being. After saying you have seen every Nic Cage movie minus Con Air, John gasps dramatically and says he cannot even bare to look at you until you have seen it and promptly runs to his room, grabbing said movie and popping it.

It's watched all the way through and you find yourself choking up at the end. You sneak a glance at John to make sure he didn't see you wibble like a little baby and to your surprise and amusement, his eyes are overflowing with tears and you are dumbfounded.

What is he, your fucking soul mate?

"What?"

Oh shit, you said that last bit out loud, didn't you? Quickly take it back and distract him, girl!

"I mean, uuuh... I mean, they must be soul mates... like... like in real life. The actors, I mean. They had really good chemistry."

"Oh! YEAH, RIGHT?! Augh... it's my favorite movie. I know it's not really considered that great to most people, but I used to watch it with my dad all the time and it just has a special place inside me, you know?"

"Yeah..." You watch him change out the DVD and ask you what you want to watch next. You pick Raising Arizona because it seems like the right thing to choose. You also need something happy to bring up your moods.

It works and you both laugh at all of the funny parts and never have you ever just enjoyed a movie with another person. There was always some fight that happened weather it was verbal or just uncomfortable, it was never easygoing and simple. Hanging out with John was both of those things. You could do it forever. You want to do it forever. You probably wouldn't find anyone else who could keep up with you in stride but also fill the role of "good guy" to your "bad guy" so well.

Speaking of which, you notice him slyly put his arm on the top of the couch so that it was behind your head. You smirk. 'Nice going, coolkid. Too bad I noticed you do it.' you think to yourself. You are not sure how you are going to react to this. You are surprised that he isn't whistling or do something else stereotypical like that. You are certainly not cliché enough to nuzzle into him but what do you do anyway? You nuzzle right into him and you can feel him stiffen up, obviously not expecting his little scheme to work.

After a while, he relaxes and, probably because he is John Egbert and incapable of ignoring a good film, is back into the movie again, mouthing the parts he knows and laughing at the jokes. This helps your racing heart relax because you have never been this close with someone you weren't laying and it is all very new to you. And you are okay with it. New is good. New is refreshing.

"I think I'm going to call it a night." he finally says after the third movie. You pout at him but you know it's late and you both have places to be in the morning. So, with much chagrin, you get up from your warm, comfortable spot under his arm and gather the DVDs up.

You walk down the short hallway together before turning into your respectable rooms. John stops you right before you open your door with a hand on your wrist.

"This was really fun, tonight... we should, uh... We should do it more often!" He smiles at you and you nod, unsure of how to actually react and much too aware of the burning sensation his hand leaves on your wrist.

He leans in and gives you a chaste kiss on the cheek and then quickly scurries into his room. You stay wide-eyed and mechanically walk into your room and flop down on your bed.

You are Vriska Serket, and you might have a small crush on your roommate, John Egbert.


	7. Chapter 7

You are in the most awkward situation of your entire life. This is the one thing that is certain, right now. You try to clear your head long enough to remember the reason behind why things had turned out like this, and you remember-- A bed spring. That was the culprit behind the mysterious case of bed-sharing.

__

At around 11 o'clock earlier that night, you were minding your own business, painting your nails and listening to music when you hear a tapping at your door. You sigh, instantly becoming annoyed, but you answer it anyway and it's none other than John with a pathetic look on his face. He tells you about how he was sleeping peacefully when he must have rolled over and something cold and metallic hit his foot. It was a spring from his bed. It popped out sometime that day and he never noticed because he is John, who never notices anything important. He then tells you his bed is unusable and that he just wanted to let you know so that you wouldn't freak out when you wake up in the morning and go out into the living room and someone is sleeping on the couch.

You glare up at him and tell him that he isn't going to sleep on the couch because he wouldn't fit and that would just look stupid. You wouldn't be able to keep your laughs to yourself with his lanky legs dangling off the side. He says that he has no other choice since it would still be better than the floor. Your bed is then offered and he argues with you about chivalry and you being the lady of the house and what kind of man would he be if he took a bed from it's owner and you stop him right there and tell him that it's big enough for the two of you.

Blush is fought away by both parties and he goes back into his room to gather his pillow and an extra blanket so you 'don't have to share that, too.' You mentally prepare yourself for the night that is in store for you. You also mentally beat yourself up over how stupid this is and why are you being so damn giving and that you must have ulterior motives, you sly little bitch. But that is not the reason. You... genuinely want him to be comfortable. You are also glad that he didn't get cut by some unclean metal.

When he comes back, you are already back on your bed, painting your nails with the music on, again. He smiles and takes his spot next to you and you try your hardest to act nonchalant. You also try your hardest not to ask if you can paint his toe nails. What a wonderful way to totally emasculate him. Your will is not strong enough.  
"Hey Joooooooohn..."

"hm?" He has his arms linked behind his head and his feet crossed and he is smiling and bobbing his foot to the beat of the song that is currently playing. He does not suspect a thing.

"Let me paint your nails."

"what? No!"

"Come oooooooon... It'll just be the toenails!! You wear sneakers all the time, anyway. It'll be our little secret!" You grab his foot and he kicks it violently, yelping.

"I AM VERY TICKLISH. THIS IS NOT OKAY."

That is no way to dissuade you from doing something you want. In fact, it does quite the opposite and you grab his foot again, this time with more force since you are fully prepared for the strength of his kicks. He yelps and laughs and squirms and tries his hardest not to hurt you but he desperately wants to get away from your touch and that just fuels your fire.

You use your elbow and most of your upper body to weigh down his flailing foot and he protests and laughs and tries to push you off but he is definitely not using full strength. Again, letting you win. Luckily for you, that is not your goal. Your goal is to paint a man's toes hot pink and you are going to win that without the help of him letting you.  
"I hope you like the color pink, John."

"Haha! No way, really? Don't you have a cooler color? Like... Like green?"

"Of course I have green, John. Don't be stupid. Unfortunately, that is not your color and pink is."

"but I can't have pink on my toes! I'm not ironic enough!" He laughs but then grows silent. You can feel the muscles in his legs give out. When you turn your head to look back at him, he has a sorrowful expression that suits everyone else perfectly, but not him. It looks gross and beautiful on his face and you don't like that.

"What if I did red, instead. Red is my favorite color." You take out the red bottle and shake it, smiling at him, doing everything you can think of to just bring that shining smile back to his face, where it belongs.

He doesn't say it, but you know he is thanking you, silently. And you give him a 'you are very welcome' from the bottom of your endlessly generous heart. Damn, what would this boy do without you looking out for him? How he was able to survive until you moved in is beyond you.

John picks up one of your pirate graphic novels from your night stand and reads it while you paint his toe nails. He is going to be the prettiest girl at the dance with nails this flawless. You hum along to the music and enjoy the comfortable silent you two are sharing.

When you finish, you show him with a singsong "Tadaaaaaaaa!" And he laughs and mockingly thanks you in the girliest, southern belle voice he can muster and you laugh because he is so ridiculously goofy, you cannot help yourself.

The next time you look back at John, his head is conked back and his mouth is open and he is breathing evenly. You shake your head and sigh while you pry your comic from his hands. He smacks his lips and moans, groggily.

"John, if you're ready to go to sleep, at least get comfortable..."

"I am comfortable..." he says slowly but scoots down onto his pillow and wraps himself in his blanket, anyway. He is out in seconds and you wonder if he's really a grown man or an infant.

When you're finally ready for bed, you go to your dresser and suddenly, your normal night time attire is much too risque for your bed quest and you settle for an old t-shirt and slightly longer shorts than what you usually wear.

The reason this had become an awkward situation for you is that in John's sleep, he had somehow maneuvered his arm under yours and pressed his face to your shoulder blades. Was this... Was this cuddling? You cannot sleep now, not with your heart racing like it is. Was he possibly awake? You cannot see him being able to do this so smoothly while asleep. But did he actually have the gall to do this consciously?

You wrack your brain trying to come up with the reasons he could possibly have behind cuddling you while you were sleeping when you are jolted out of your thoughts by him stretching out his legs and nuzzling into you. Besides the fact that your heart has skipped a beat, you are starting to feel nauseous from nervousness and you want to just sleep alone and not have to be so self-conscious and even though you really hate right now, you are also annoyed at that fact that you don't want this night to end-- you don't want him to suddenly move in his sleep and turn over on his other side.

Your breathing stops when he does just that. When you look over your shoulder, you are greeted with his back towards you and soft, even breaths. Fuck him. Fuck you. There is no real reason behind being this upset that you have lost contact with him. He is still in the bed with you and he's a quiet sleeper so there really is no reason for you to be getting so mad.

But you are. You hate that your back is now cold but that you can still feel his touch there, his nose rubbing into your shoulder blades. You liked it a lot more than you thought you would and why the hell are you turning over and snaking your arm under his so you can cling to his chest like a lovesick pre-teen?

Pull yourself together.

But he didn't move.

You decide you are going to stay like that until he physically moves you and since he is asleep, he won't and you can breathe in his scent and feel his warmth and how his chest grows when he takes an extra deep breath and when he sighs, you can hear it through his back. This orchestra of John lulls you into a comfortable sleep and when you wake up in the morning, he is not there. You panic for a few seconds until the noises of someone in the kitchen alert you that he just woke up before you and there is probably breakfast waiting.

There is. Neither of you talk about last night, except for his thank yous. You're grateful of that, as you stuff bacon into your mouth. But you also really need to talk to someone about how you are feeling because you cannot organize your thoughts by yourself. You have never felt this deeply for someone before and you don't want to fuck it up. You need counseling. And that's when you remember Tavros' number is in your phone.


	8. Chapter 8

Tavros comes over just as you expected him to. He was all too eager to help you in any way that he could. You know this is because he is obsessed with you, and who wouldn't be? You take that thought back because you are scared shitless that John would be the one who wouldn't fall under your charm.

When Tavros knocks lightly on the door you quickly get up from your seat on the couch next to John and tell him you're going out with a friend. John looks surprised but just tells you to have fun and gives you that smile that makes your knees weak. You wish you were the only one he smiled to because not everyone deserves to see that.

Tavros makes a squeak of a noise when you open the door and push him back outside instead of inviting him in.

"We're going to Starbucks or some shit, okay? We can't talk here..."

He looks suspiciously at you but says nothing in protest.

When you get to your destination and order your drinks, you settle down at a table in a corner and hope to god you have enough privacy. Vriska Serket does not spill her heart out every day and another chance like this is not going to show itself any time soon. You need this to be private and perfect and sincere.

"Tavros, I think I like John."

He sputters his latte and blinks at you. "W-What...?"

"My roommate. You know, Dave's old best friend or whatever? Yeah, I think I like him." You glare, begrudgingly out the window, like it was some horrible curse that has you emotionally attached to the moron. You know this is not far from the truth.

"Is... Is that what you wanted to talk with me about?"

"Yeah... I needed to tell someone and I thought of you first." He looks surprised and you, yourself are also just as surprised. Why him? Probably because you are a raging sadist and you want to passively show Tavros that he doesn't have a chance in hell at getting into your panties. If you wanted to date a pussy, you would have taken Kanaya up on her offer a few years back. Nonetheless, he was here and he was willing to listen to you and that is all you need right now.

"W-Well, I am flattered... but, I don't really see how I could be someone who could help you... with... confidence... Like, if you were to tell him, I have no idea how to help you get the courage to go through with it..." He looks down at his drink and sighs.

"So, if you liked someone, you wouldn't be able to tell them, right?"

He nods.

"You are right, this is completely pointless." He looks even more dejected and you feel a pang of remorse. Good thing it's easy to ignore! You have had practice. "But, talking about it does help and I need to figure out if this is just because I've been single for a while or if it's legitimate."

"Do you just want to have... have sex with him?"

"That is only one of the things that I would like to do with him, yes." You are deadpan and it makes Tavros blush wildly, but he trudges on. You are proud of the little worm.

"So, if he refused to do it... with you, would you still have f-feelings?"

"...I..." You stop and think. This was very important. You know he's a virgin and you know he's waiting for the right girl to fall in his lap and what if he didn't think you were the right girl? Your blood runs cold at this thought. It never occurred to you that you could easily be rejected.

But John was special. And he was special to you. If he didn't want to play the best indoor sport with you, you... you would be alright with that. With a new set of determination, you stare Tavros in the eyes and nod once.

"Well, then... I think, for once... you're feelings are genuine." Tavros tries to smile encouragingly but it's forced and fake. You ignore it. You have other things to worry about and Tavros was a big boy. Well...

"My feelings are always genuine. But, thanks. I think..." You pause and look down at your coffee as if it was giving you a pep-talk. 'You can do it! If you want to tell John how you feel, then by god, make his day!' You're right, coffee. "I think... I'm going to tell him... tonight."

Tavros doesn't say anything and looks everywhere else but your general direction. God, was he really that upset about it. Poor sod must be head-over-heels for you. But that is none of your business. You never tried to get him to be interested in you... sometimes you can't help being this ridiculously good looking. That is out of your control and thus, he will have to deal with it himself.

You both finish your drinks and he takes you back to your apartment and you give him a chaste hug, which is the first time you ever have. You are actually thankful for him, coming out and listening to you and helping you out even though it probably tore him up inside. You have the decency to at least acknowledge that he is a real human, with real emotions.

That night, after John made dinner and you cleaned up, you sit next to him on the couch and he has some movie playing, but you can't be bothered with that right now.

"John, can I talk to you for a second...?"

He blinks at you, probably unused to your serious voice and turns the volume down on the TV, but not off. It's the only light in the living room, after all. Lights off was the only way to watch movies, you see.

"Yeah, shoot."

"I, uh..." You are Vriska Serket and for the first time in your entire life, you have no idea what the fuck to say. John waits patiently for you to get your words in order. "I have a... a problem." That is not what you meant to say, what the hell is wrong with you?

"A problem? Are you okay?" John suddenly looks concerned and he leans in to make sure you really are uninjured.

"Yes, but it's not a serious one... I mean-- It's not bad! Uuuh... wow" you let out a huff and look away, glaring.

"Is it... complicated?"

"Very. Yes, in fact that is a good word! It is complicated! But only when I try to say it out loud! It is very simple in theory and in my head, I just am scared and nervous to tell you..."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

You blink. Did you hear that wrong? What the fuck did he just say? Did you have a boyfriend? You must have looked completely lost because John clears it up with, "I mean, like... because if you did, that would take away from our hangout time, right? Boyfriends usually get priority..." He looks sad again.

This is inane. "No, you idiot! But... But you're on the right track... that is, I hope to have one, soon."

"You're interested in someone, then? Is it Tavros? Is that why you hung out with him today? That's pretty cute, I didn't think you would go for the super nice guys... I guess what they say is true! Opposites DO attract!" He is rambling and laughing and not looking you in the eyes and you are growing more and more impatient.

"No! I do not like Tavros! As much as he wishes I did, I just don't and I never will!" You stare at him with fierce, fearless eyes and he cowers under their gaze. You huff angrily and bury your head in your hand. You have to be straight forward with this kid or he'll just keep assuming the most stupidest shit. "I... I like someone I don't think will like me back... And it sucks, because I know this and it hurts, yet I am forced to see him every day."

"Is it Sollux? I mean, you do work with him,"

"It's not Sollux. It's someone you know personally, very well..."

"D-"

"NO. No, God, John... It's not..." You sigh again, chickening out of a perfectly good opportunity to just tell him. Your courage dwindled out a long time ago.

He stares at you, at a loss of who he thinks it could be and he looks concerned and you wish he didn't aim those glorious blue orbs at you so without filter of a mask. He does not hide anything about himself. He is always sincere and everything you see is everything he is. It's the kind of thing that could melt you if you weren't careful with how you deflected it. Right now, you're shield wasn't up.

"John... It's not any of your friends... or any of mine..."

"But, how can you like someone if you aren't friends with them, first?"

You are struck hard, right in your heart and you stare at him, wide-eyed and uncertain of what to say next and he just asks you if you're okay and if he said something that was thoughtless and stupid and suddenly, you know exactly what to do to get your point across. And you won't even have to say a word. It is foolproof because, if he accepts it, he won't say anything and if he denies it, then he's strong enough to stop you.

He places a hand on your shoulder to gently try to get your attention and you lean in and press your mouth to his and he tenses up completely.

But he doesn't pull away.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some smutting involved in this one!

No, John does not pull away. He doesn't freak out or push you or even make a noise. He does quite the opposite. Your heart is still pounding a quick rhythm in your chest and your breath is shallow and uneven and you don't want to pull away but you also feel extremely awkward that your mouths are touching but no one is moving or doing much of anything.

Just breathing.

And staring.

Why is he staring. Doesn't he know that you have to close your eyes? It's proper kissing etiquette. Would this even be considered kissing? Neither of you were moving your mouths. It was the longest peck in the history of mouth hockey and now you want to laugh because of how stupid this is and why isn't he doing anything?!

You finally pull away and lick your dry lips and laugh nervously and apologize-- because you're an idiot. He blinks at you and then looks away, blushing fiercely and that makes you become extremely bashful and what in the ever loving fuck are you doing? You do not get bashful. You make men blush and nervous and quiver and you are always at the top of your game; always confident and cocky as hell. But here you are, acting like a fucking virgin and you cannot control yourself.

"S-Sorry... I am so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I-I... I just..." you ramble on and he laughs and it cuts you off.

"You're apologizing for that? Really, Vris..." He smiles at you and shakes his head, completely baffled, apparently. "I mean, it wasn't really much of a kiss, but..."

"What do you mean, it wasn't that much of a kiss?" You are suddenly angry and hurt and how dare he?!

A sly look starts to spread across his face and you want to wipe it off. "Yeah... In fact, I might even be as bold as to say it was probably the worst kiss I've ever had!"

You feel your face turn hot and it's not because of how alluring his tone of voice is being or how that smile gives you a case of the vapors. You are getting very angry. 'Worst kiss' he's ever had?! Your balls! You are about to show him how good of a kisser Vriska Serket can be and he is going to melt like velveta in your damn mouth.

"I mean, I don't exactly have a lot of experience..." He's still talking. "But, I've been around a few times and kissed the softest of lips, and I have to tell you... you might want to look into some chap stick. It might help you..." This is insane. "I mean, I thought you were a maneater, but that was just anti-climactic!" He laughs and you push him back and he falls with a yelp and says your name in the most shaky voice you've ever heard. You have succeeded in stopping him from talking and startling him out of his pants. Well... not yet.

"I am going to make you eat those words, John Egbert."

He looks up at you with terrified puppy eyes but those won't save him from the schooling he is about to get.

You crawl over his sprawled out body like a panther, stalking her prey and he is looking at you with doe eyes. Perfect. This is how Vriska does it. You grab his shoulder and push it back on the couch as he makes a scared sound. You lick your lips one more time before diving in for the kill.

This time around, you are channeling confidence fueled by courage and hurt pride. He doesn't stand a chance. When your mouth hits his, there are sparks and you are certain he feels them, too. You mouth at him and his hand comes up and cradles the back of your head with the softest touch. Climbing into his lap, you bring both your hands up to bury into and grip his hair. He moans slightly and you see stars.

You continuously tilt your head, trying to find the perfect angle to get at his mouth with and it's a while before you both come up for air. When you finally do, you pant and stare at each other before you ask, "How bad of a kisser am I, now?"

He's breathing heavily and his shirt and hair are a mess, but he still has the audacity to say, "Only slightly better..."

He is going to make you show all your cards.

"Okay... Okay..." You say it more to yourself than to him and you then grab his collar and hoist him up. He looks at you, completely confused. "You're asking for this." You drag him to your room and slam the door behind you.

"Uuh... Vriska... I dunno if..."

"Shut up." You're angry and you're prideful-- and now, horny. He is going to have to pay for all of these crimes in full.

He backs up as you advance slowly but hits the edge of the bed and looks back to check what he's run into. When he looks back, you're right in front of him, staring him in the face.

"I like you, John. A lot. I don't know why, but I am going to show you exactly what you've been doing to me for the passed few months. Right. Now." With every emphasis, your fingers walk up his chest and he gulps. You continue to walk your fingers up his collar bone and rest on his jaw and you stroke and ease his face down to yours. He looks scared and nervous and you eat it up.

When your lips meet again, you're suddenly gentler and it's sweeter and you are able to savor the feel of his mouth and smell in his scent and press up against his body. You can thoroughly enjoy this moment now and your mind goes crazy because this is what you've wanted for so long and you've only now realized it.

After a few moments, his hands rest on your lower back and he leans into you. It is now your turn to be surprised as he drags his tongue across your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You oblige, but only because you were thinking the same thing. He is all too eager to deepen the kiss and you are pushed back as he tries to overpower you. This will not cut it. You kiss back fiercely because you are going to win dominance.

"Ow!" He pulls back and laps at his bottom lip, a shocked expression on his face. "You bit me!"

You chuckle darkly and bite your bottom lip. His face softens and his expression turns serious as he leans in and pecks you on the mouth and then again and again before he is kissing you fully.

Without breaking the magnetic attraction your lips seem to have, you grab him by the shirt and slowly turn around until your back is to the bed where you then promptly fall back and he is forced to come with you. He breaks away and props himself up with his hands, panting slightly.

"Is... Is this okay? I mean... "

"You don't have anyone who will be upset by this, do you?" Your hands can't seem to keep to themselves as they slowly caress his arms and collar bone and neck and jaw.

"N-no... Not that I know of... what about you?" He swallows harshly, obviously trying to ignore your roaming hands, but failing miserably.

"Of course I do." And you reach up and kiss him again, snaking your arms behind his neck and pulling him down to lay on top of you. He is not getting away, this time. "Tonight, I am leaving behind me a trail of broken hearts. Not everyone can get what they want. They'll get over it."

He melts into your kiss and his hands find their way into your hair and it feels amazing and right and you are on cloud fucking 9. The only thing that is missing from this perfect moment is the appropriate crotch contact. He is still hovering awkwardly over you and you're not having it. Your hips buck up and bump his and he makes a small noise that tells you just how much control he has over his body.

It's a lot of fucking control.

Control is the last thing you want right now. You want to show him how uncontrollable he makes you feel and how are you supposed to accomplish this when he's got a cap on his sexuality and not letting you experience the whole package?

An annoyed growl comes from your throat and you roll your body up against his as excruciatingly slow as you can with how impatient you are and he whines and pulls away again.

"You're killing me, here..." He sighs and nuzzles your nose with his and it's the cutest thing you've ever had done to you. You blush furiously for the first time since you were both on the couch. But, you have nothing to say. "I am trying my best to be a gentleman but you are making it really... really hard..."

"I can tell." you glance down to the space in between the two of you and he flips his shit slightly, saying that is not what he meant and you know it but you laugh and stick out your tongue at him and he nips at it before the mood turns serious again and he is kissing you with more vigor than he had a moment ago.

After an immeasurable amount of time, because you are currently very preoccupied, you both have made it all the way onto your bed and your shorts were off and his shirt was on the floor and both of your hair is a mess.

John plants short kisses down your neck while you relish in the feeling. He keeps planting the kisses down your chest and to your stomach and grabs the bottom of your shirt with his teeth and wriggles his eyebrows at you as he pulls it up. You laugh because that is the most corny, cliche shit you have ever had done to you and it is so very John Egbert.

You let him do his thing, anyway and he succeeds with little effort in taking your shirt off. You give him props for that, mostly because you didn't think he would be able to pull it off-- haha, that is a joke, get it?

You toss your shirt to the floor and lay back down. You are more excited than your first time and you are so ready to add John's V-card to your stash. But his is gold plate and unbreakable and gets its own little pocket in your metaphorical sex wallet.

John surprises you by dragging his tongue lazily up your stomach and your head rolls back at the wonderful feeling. The places you want that tongue to go, oh my. You let him lavish you with his tongue and your world goes black as he goes lower and lower.   
__

You both take turns dining out but he won't let you go all the way tonight. It's probably for the best since you know how special it is to him and you aren't even dating, yet.

"Wow..." He pants out, laying next to you and staring at the ceiling when it's all good and done.

"Am I still a bad kisser?" You ask, smugly. There is no way he can say anything negatively about how you do things when you just blew both his mind and his cock. You smile to yourself, remembering the noises he made and how his eyes slowly shut when your mouth engulfed him. You remember the way his body rolled slowly in time with your bobbing head and the feeling of his fingers in your hair. He was so gentle for someone who's never had their dick sucked and he was even polite enough to tell you when he was about to explosed. You sucked him dry, anyway. It was a night of firsts.

"Yes."

Your head snaps in his direction and he dodges a fist, laughing. "YOU-- HOW COULD YOU--"

He cuts you off by pressing his mouth to yours and you are subdued instantly. Damn him. That kind of power will go straight to his head, if you're not careful to keep him in check.

He pulls away and laughs at the face you are apparently making which is really funny to him and you don't know why because you thought you had mentally written 'Murder John Egbert' all over it and that is not something he should take lightly.

"You are the worst kisser in the history of kissing and you should probably keep your day job." He nods and places a hand on your shoulder, acting sympathetic and you bat it away, angrily.

"That's not what your dick was saying a few minutes ago. It appreciated my mouth, unlike its owner." You pout at him and he laughs again.

Things fall silent after that as you both take in what really just happened between you two and what the next step was. You, like always, know exactly what you want but you're not sure about John-- always the trickster-- and you are too chicken shit to ask. You settle for staring down at your twiddling thumbs and wait for him to ask you to speak.

"Vriska...?" Your head snaps up and you stare at him, expectantly. "You never told me what you wanted to tell me, originally." You blink and remember that you really never said anything you meant to say and you just let actions speak for you.

Maybe John didn't want just actions. He is making it hard for you.

"I... I uh... I think... thaaaaaaaat," Your eyes wonder as you say this, "I might be... a little bit attracted to... my roommate, John Egbert. And I don't know what to do."

He laughs and you stare at him nervously, waiting for his response.

He smiles back at you with unabashed eyes. "Oh, does she, now? I bet he is completely unaware."

"Well, I hope not anymore..."

"Oh, that's good. What will you do when he finds out?"

"I think... I will ask him to be my boyfriend." You cannot hide the smile on your face at this fun little game and you love how he has a strange way of talking and being able to make his sentence structure CUTE.

"When are you planning on doing that?"

You blink up at him and then glance down, not focusing on anything in particular. Suddenly, you have the confidence you need and you ask. "John, will you go out with me?"

"Nope!"

That is the second time that night you have seen stars.


	10. Chapter 10

You wake up early the next morning. The sun is just now rising and it's hazy and cool outside. You sit out on the balcony in the lawn chair with a blanket wrapped around you. You can feel how puffy your eyes are; you didn't really sleep. Because of the fact that John had yet to order a new bed, you were still sharing it with him. After his rejecting you, there was one more round of heated kissing before he decided to pass out and you were left to mope alone in your dark room with a sleeping John clinging to you.

Was this one of his prankster gambits? How can someone tell you they don't want to date you, but then attack your mouth and fall asleep, clutching to you like a prepubescent girl? It had to be a joke. He is going to wake up, come out onto the balcony and kiss you on the cheek and call you "babe" and tell you that he has just made this facebook official.

But he doesn't. He sleeps in until 11 and then walks out in his boxers to make a cup of coffee before he even realizes you're out on the porch. When he does come out to greet you, it's to ask if you've eaten anything yet and if you wanted something, he would be happy to make it. Just. Like. Always.

__

"No, we don't have fucking Battle Toads. That joke is archaic. Get some new material and then hit us the fuck up, again." You slam the receiver back onto the phone and growl, angrily. Really? Today had to be the day where everyone was fucking prank calling the local GameStop. Sollux was in the back opening boxes and shelving games and you were stuck behind the register, left to force a smile on your face and play nice with the snot nosed brats that came in with their parent's credit cards and bought out the reason they're all immature virgins. You have forced back more snide remarks than you can recall having to in one day and pray to god that your break comes sooner.

"What the ever loving fuck is your problem, today? You're going to scare away all of our costumers-- More than usual." He tosses you the box cutter he was holding and you glare at him. Not this shit, again. "You can go do inventory. You obviously can't handle dealing with customer service today."

After silently thanking him with a stern nod, you walk to the back where you can sit in silence and stew in self-loathing until your day is done. During this time, you come up with some possible reasons as to why John said what he said but then acted the complete opposite. It can't be that he is a player. You have heard stories of his ex-bestie Dave before, but you never pinned John to be a lady killer. If he is, you have definitely met your match and you have been reminded of this several times.

It could be because he just doesn't want a girl friend but he is still attracted to you? But he doesn't seem like the type to be like that. If John is anything, he is a hopeless romantic. He would want a nice girl to go steady with.

A nice girl.

That's what it is. You are not the type of girl John would want to bring home and show off to his parents. They'd probably nag at him for dating a girl who looks like she could be a stripper-- or be ashamed because you aren't in school and you aren't going anywhere with your life. You're a bum compared to the life John is leading. John the biology major. He is going to make it big some day and he is going to make some lucky lady proud and you have the worst luck in the world, right now. You've been rolling and rolling but only getting 1s. When's your roll of 8 going to happen? Probably never.

But why would you still think all of this about you and steal kisses and hug you and laugh with you? He's friendly, really friendly... and always in the mood to talk and joke around. Maybe it's just because he does whatever is easiest for the situation. But that didn't really fit with the situation or with how sincere John is as a person.

"Ow!"

In your string of thinking, you nick your finger with the box cutter and shove it in your mouth to stop the bleeding.

"Fuck..." With a groan you get up to get a bandage from the back. While cleaning and fixing up your tiny wound, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror of the bathroom and your eyes begin to water. You curse slightly and grip the sides of the sink until you knuckles drain of color. "Fuck you, John..." You bite back a sob. Why do your emotions start to overflow now, of all times? You curse Sollux for ever finding you a place to stay and you curse John for being so fucking wonderful and you curse yourself for being a horrible, horrible person. You don't even know why you're beating yourself up but you know that you aren't the cutesy girl most guys like to go for. You're brutish and stubborn and lazy and dirty.

Your reflection blinks back at you as you try to will away the tears that won't stop from coming. What you see, you hate. You think about all the things that anyone has ever said about you and all of them have been bad except the ones from John. John has had a pretty high opinion of you, always optimistic and smiling and laughing. How does he do it and why is he different than everyone else?

Sollux raps on the door and asks if you're shitting.

"No, you dick... I'm wrapping up my hand. I cut it a little. I'll be out when I'm done."

"Alright, but I'm just letting you know that some of the shelves are getting a little bare out there... Do you damn job."

You grudgingly finish your day with only a little bit of time to go back to your depressing thoughts. You have come to a conclusion, you aren't giving up. When you get home, you are going to do all kinds of things to woo John Egbert into your bed again.

__

Luckily, you get home before he does and you are suddenly hit with optimism and a jolt of adrenaline. You start off by cleaning up the living room and making it presentable, as if you were going to have company over! Yeah, that's what cleaning is for. After vacuuming, you rub sweat from your forehead and start on the kitchen. You wash all of the dishes and you even dry them off and put them away! You are on a roll! You mop up the floor and you wipe down the counter tops and everything is sparkling. You can see your reflection on every surface. Not a good girl, huh? Just wait until John comes home and sees this.

But is it enough... You think about making dinner, but you have no idea what you'd cook. You can do things that are simple like mac n cheese and ramen. That isn't romantic. That isn't romantic in the least.

You tap your foot and look around the kitchen as if that will somehow spark some inspiration in you for what to make. Maybe you could get an idea from the cooking channel. You sit down and watch it with a notepad ready to take any kind of pointers you can find but you don't really come up with anything spectacular and you go back to the kitchen, pissed off.

After checking all of the cupboards and the pantry and the refrigerator , you decide on making a nice, big salad and some gourmet mac n cheese. You can at least bake it. This will all be ready by the time he comes home and with you still having to share a bed, things are going to go smoothly for you.

John comes home about an hour and a half later and notices immediately that the living room is straightened up and the kitchen is clean.

"Woooow did you do this all today? I can even smell carpet cleaner!" He whistles and laughs as he throws his backpack on the arm chair.

"I did. I figured you do a lot around here and I just felt like doing something to please you..." You fold your arms behind your back, suddenly overcome with embarrassment and peak up at him to see his shocked expression before he softens into a smile and he ruffles your hair.

"Aww, well, thanks! Are you cooking something? Man, I'm starved." He goes into the kitchen and opens the fridge, taking out a soda and kicking it closed behind him, popping it open.

"I, uh! I made a salad and some baked macaroni and cheese... Is... Is that okay?"

He peers over the can as he puts it to his lips and nods. "Yeah, I'm so okay with that. I didn't know you could cook! Damn, I can start taking it a little easy, now... even if it is fun for me..."

"I don't really know how to make a lot of things... just... just this stuff." You motion over to the oven and shrug. You do not know where all of your fucking confidence went, this is ridiculous.

"Hm. Well, if you want to learn how to make other things, I'll be glad to teach you." He smiles at you and it shatters your heart. This goddamn plan of yours better work in your favor.

You both sit down to eat at the table which is a first. You always seem to sloppily eat on the coffee table in front of the TV, but you want this to be special. You want John to know that you weren't bullshitting him about how you felt. You are literally crazy for him for whatever reason, and you are going to get what you want and he is going to want it as well.

"So, how was your day?"

"Oh, it was fine. Just a few lecture classes, nothing big. I've got labs all day tomorrow, though... not looking forward to that." He huffs and you laugh slightly and agree. School must be hard. You prefer your easy job at a video game store, being around what you love. But, maybe John likes to learn...

He then asks you how your day was and you tell him it was pretty uneventful. He then asks you what made you want to clean the apartment and you tell him as nonchalantly as you can that you just felt like it. That he didn't need to be doing everything around here all the time because it was your place, too. He smiles at that and you give yourself a mental pat on the shoulders. Good job, girl.

When the meal is done, you insist on cleaning up after him and he tells you that you had worked very hard all day and that you could rest and he'll take care of the clean up. You let him because that makes him happy and you go to lounge on the couch but you don't turn on the TV like you normally would have.

He finishes up and joins you on the couch. You think he notices that you have been acting different all day (he should notice. It's his fault.) but he doesn't say anything and he turns on the TV and leans back, crossing his feet on the coffee table.

You pick idly at your bandage and sigh. You figured he would've thanked you in other ways like whisking you off to your room and having his way with you. You start to daydream about the possibilities of this and try not to drool too much. you don't even notice him staring at you until he's taken your injured hand into his and is examining it.

"You're hurt! I thought you said today was uneventful..."

"Oh..." You look down at your hand and then up at his concerned expression and suddenly, drama overcomes you and you begin to put on one hell of a show for him. "Yeah... ow, it still kind of hurts, don't mess with it too much..." You wince even though it didn't really hurt, only stung a little. It could've been ignored.

"Sorry..." He holds your hand like it's precious china and you love the feeling of it.

"I was opening boxes in the back today... and I accidentally cut myself with the box cutter."

"Ah! Oh no!" John flips out a little because it really does sound worse than it actually was. You decide to leave out the bit about crying because of him. You're manipulative, but not to the point where it makes you look like a fucking pussy. You'd rather die than reveal a weakness like that. Crying over a cut that hurts, though... that is something a cute girl would do, right? You tell him that.

"I only cried... a little." You pout at him after he asks you and he chuckles. You blush but only slightly and look away.

"And you even came home and cleaned all of this with an injured hand. What a trooper." He says sarcastically, but it's endearing. You push him playfully and suddenly, you feel like everything is how it was when you were both friends. Your blood runs cold because you are now officially in the friend zone.

You want to start crying again, but you refuse to and you blink back the tears and look away, feigning curiosity for where your favorite pillow is. You even ask him if it's on his side of the couch or not. Before you can even think about it, you are leaning over him and groping for the pillow. One you realize how close you are to him, even before the blush starts to spread across your face, you stare him dead in the eyes and slowly move back, pillow in hand and clutch it to your chest with the strongest death grip you can muster. Your feet are brought up and you sit there in the fetal position as he channel surfs and finds America's Funniest Home Videos.

After watching it a while, you notice neither of you are laughing like you usually would and his face is blank, but leaning more towards the serious side. You swear there is red on his cheeks but you bat that away as hopeful thinking.

"I'll... I'll sleep on the couch tonight," you say through the fabric of the pillow. You don't even turn to look at him when you say it.

"Wait. No, I can't kick you out of your bed! It's YOUR bed!" he protests but you will have none of that.

"No... please, just stay in there. I can fit on the couch, unlike you." Neither of you relent and you end up arguing about it. You even go to your room and grab your pillow and blanket and literally kick him off the couch with your feet.

"Alright, alright! Just... if it's too uncomfortable... you can always come back in there with me..." He says good night and leaves you in the glowing living room, alone... with the TV and your thoughts. You are finally able to cry out your failures and nap for a couple of hours before you are woken up by a nightmare.

You don't remember what it was exactly, but it's left your heart racing and gasping for air. You feel a cold sweat come on and suddenly, the big open living room is the last place you want to be. You gulp and without thinking gather your things and trudge to your bedroom where you snuggle up on the edge of the bed and slowly relax into a state more susceptible to sleep.

"Vriska?" you hear John's raspy sleep voice and your heart sinks.

"Y...Yeah?"

"What are you doing? I thought you didn't want to sleep in here?" He rubs at his eyes and probes for his glasses but can't find them.

"I... I had a nightmare and I didn't want to be out there alone. I can sleep in my own fucking bed, can't I?" You snap at him but you didn't mean to. He takes it in strides, though which you are thankful for but you still feel slightly guilty.

"Aw man, that sucks... Do you wanna talk about it?"

"I don't remember it but I was really scared and I feel better in my own room... sorry you have to share a bed with me..." You snuggle deeper into your blanket, as if that'll hide your mortification. It doesn't, of course.

"why are you apologizing...?" He sounds upset but you don't dare look at him. You stay in your cocoon blanket and glare at nothing in particular.

"Because..."

"Haha, because what?" he says it in the most mocking of voices. Like you're some kind of child throwing a tantrum. Part of you says it's not far from the truth but you bat that away.

He doesn't let up on the teasing. He calls you all these little pet names and pokes at you and coos at you like you're an infant and it's staring to grate on your nerves. When you snap, you fling your arm back and swing around until you are facing him and he's startled but laughs anyway.

"BECAUSE, JOHN EGBERT-- Because..." Your anger leaves you high and dry and you don't know what to say. God, nothing is on your side. You are completely alone and unlucky and you might as well be stepping on every fucking piece of glass on the floor because your metaphorical feet are bleeding. "Because... I didn't think you'd want to share a bed... with someone you didn't like..." You finish up and the tears are brimming again. Ugh, fuck everything.

John stares at you for a second and it's unfocused because of the dark and because he's fucking blind without his thick rimmed specs. When he does speak, it's in a whisper and you have to lean in to hear him.

"I don't mind sharing a bed with you..."

"Tch!" You look away, angrily and you hope he can see just how pissed off your expression is. "Whatever! If you really didn't then why did you say no to me last night after taking advantage of me! You're awful!" Your voice breaks at the last part and that's when you decide to just shut up.

"What does that have to do with sharing a bed, though...? Isn't sleeping a necessity? And if you're scared to be out there alone, then of course I am even more for sharing YOUR bed with YOU." He puts a hand on your shoulder and rubs little circles on it. You like the feeling but you are bitter at it at the same time.

He pulls away after you don't move and lays back down. "Well, I am going to sleep because I have to be up, early... I suggest you do the same."

"Tch..." You don't lay down. You stay sitting up with your knees to your chest and your arms wrapped stubbornly around them.

He reaches over and pets your back until he falls asleep and his arm goes limp but it's still behind you. You cry until you run out of tears and even then you silently sob and you hate yourself and you hate him and you hate living here and you want to just run away but you have no idea where you'd go or what you'd do. You don't have many friends and they all have their own lives and you don't like relying on people but you don't have enough to live on your own. You are stuck and you are miserable and you hate that you snuggle up to him anyway.

When you do fall asleep, a mantra repeats itself in your head.

H8 H8 H8 H8...


	11. Chapter 11

"Huh?" You look up from your bowl of half-eaten cereal, mouth slack. Last night, you didn't sleep easily and when you were able to go unconscious, you were tormented with bad dreams. They were the kind that had nothing to do with anything that was going on in your life but were definitely caused by the turmoil you seem to be experiencing during your waking hours.

"I said I'm going to be ordering a new bed, today. It'll probably take like, 5 business days to get here, so you'll finally have your bed back, soon!" he smiles cheerfully at you and you bite back the urge to hit him just so he can feel as miserable as you do.

"Okay..." You go back to spooning your cereal and he doesn't speak for the rest of breakfast.

You spend the day at work, doing things mechanically. Sollux constantly gets on your case about not smiling or being friendly to the customers but he notices that you're not being your usual, snarky self. He gets you on shelving duty again and you, like always, are thankful for that. You lose box cutter privileges, though.

When you get home, you flop on the couch and turn the TV on just so you have the illusion of doing something. John gets home an hour later and finds you passed out with the news flashing in the background. You stir a little when he moves your feet so he can sit down. He places them back on his lap and you are suddenly very much awake but you won't reveal this to him. A cold sweat starts to build as you are far too aware of him and his hand resting on your ankle.

Why are you doing this to me, you're fucking sadistic…

He nudges your shoulder and coos your name after a while and you pretend to wake up groggily. He tells you that he's going to karaoke night at the local bar with people and wants to know if you wouldn't mind joining them. You say yes, but only because you don't want to be alone with your thoughts anymore.

Just like the time when you were invited to go to the club with the gang, they pick you up in the van and John sits next to you and you now refuse to trust a single ounce of anything he does. He is too contradicting and it pisses you off. Your hopes are constantly getting thrown up and down and sideways and turnways and you are sick of it. You opt to staring out the window and ignoring everyone, even the ones who ask you how your day was.

When you get there, everyone is a twitter over what songs they're going to sing and who sings well and who shouldn't even bother getting on stage. You make note that Dave is nowhere to be found and John looks a lot less pensive than he did a few weeks back when they were invited to an outing like this. He doesn't look pensive at all; in fact he looks overjoyed and just happy with life. You are so very envious.

Because you find nothing interesting about anyone who is there except John, you spend most of the night sitting at a table and just watching everyone. Sollux talks Tavros into singing a song with him and Tavros actually does it. Nepeta cheers the loudest and it makes you sick.

You roll your eyes more than you've ever done before in a single night and everything is dull and colorless and now, you just would rather be home bathing in your own muck rather than putting up with all these dipshits as they have a great time with the only other being you care about that isn't yourself.

"Are you gonna get up there?" John sits next to you, huffing after belting out a Journey song with the rest of the group. Your gaze lazily falls upon his face and you make no move to answer him. He gets the hint and turns back to the stage as some elderly woman sings Etta James.

This awkward silence doesn't last long because John has no idea what tact entails. He drums on his thighs and asks again.

"No, John. I really do not want to get up there and humiliate myself in front of a bunch of drunken strangers."

"Aawww, are you sure? It's a lot of fun! And, I mean, everyone's embarrassing themselves. I got up there and I'm tone-deaf!" He laughs and it's so fucking cute and you hate him for it.

You glare out at the rest of the small bar and John's face falls. He stares out with you before blinking and turning back to you with that same damn smile he gives everyone else. "That's a shame. You sing really well, I think..." Your head snaps in his direction and he's avoiding eye contact, like he's embarrassed or some shit.

You don't say anything and he waits before getting impatient and opens his mouth to speak again, but you cut him off by standing up abruptly and walking over to the song selection. You hear him hoot at you as you walk away and you fight back the tint that is threatening to stain your cheeks.

There are very few things that Vriska Serket is not good at. Singing is one of them. But the compliment John had given you is a little inspiring and what if it helps win him over? You can be like a siren and sing his ship over to your jutting rocks. Something about that makes you feel slightly less like a hornses ass. It reminds you of how you used to be before hurricane John came into your life and thrashed it all around. The thought is almost calming, but then you see the booklet of songs available to sing and that nice feeling is gone again in a flash.

After flipping through the song list, you find one that you never would have expected to be in karaoke form. You figure it's because this is a hipster college town and you're in a tiny, dark bar where everyone's drinking pbr and smoking cloves and now, it's not so strange that they would have St. Vincent's music for karaoke.

You punch the number in and walk up onto the stage. People clap and holler and to your much chagrin, John is sitting in the back at the table you had been recently glued to all night with his arms and legs crossed looking as smug as a motherfucker. You grip the microphone to release some of the pent up rage. What if you just beamed him with this microphone? What if…?

You will see if that face lasts after he hears the song.

At first, your singing is almost too soft to hear properly and someone is already booing you but John is quick to hush them up and everyone else from your group follows. It throws you off your game for a few lyrics but then you're back and obviously, holding back on the volume of your voice isn't going to work in your favor. You sing slightly louder and some people clap, which is encouraging.

"Marry me, John. Marry me, John I'll be so sweet to you. You won't realize I'm gone. You won't realize I'm gone."

As you sing, you stare him right in the eyes and he seems transfixed but that could very well just be your imagination. His expression, even if it's hard to see from up on the stage, seems blank and you can't read it and that drives you crazy, so you just focus on singing this and hope it's obvious enough that he understands just how turbulent he has made your life.

"Oh, John c'mon we'll do what married people do. Oh, John c'mon we'll do what Mary and Joseph did without the kid."

Whistles come from the small group of friends (you will call them friends, you guess) and the fact that John wasn't one of them makes your blood run cold and your voice shaky. By the time you finish up the song, you are briskly walking off stage and towards the bathroom. You need to hide your face and humiliation and tears as your emotions get the best of you again. It is like they have been belted by gamma rays and are now too strong for you to control. You have been overpowered by them more often lately, and it's really starting to wear you down.

In your haste, you fail to notice you're being followed until it is too late and he has you cornered right outside of the lady's room at the end of the dark hallway where no one can see you. You want to scream but you are too shaken up to do it and your eyes dilate and your breathing hitches and you begin to struggle until a soft hand claps over your mouth and you are pressed against the wall. At the edge of your mind, you comment on the probability that this wall is as sticky and gross as the floor.

"Sshh... it's me." He whispers in your ear and it gives you chills but you're not sure if they're the good kind or the bad kind.

John pulls his hand from your mouth and you almost miss the heat from it. He places his hands on both of your wrists and pins them to the wall. You have no idea how to act or what to say or what is even going on so you just cautiously watch him and wait for something to happen. When it does, you melt completely into him. You are so weak.

His lips are hot on yours and his body is heavy and the wall hurts your back. There are so many sensations, you are overwhelmed and focusing on just one is hard enough without the others overpowering each other.

He mouths at you and laps at your lips and you shudder again before sticking out your own tongue and closing the gap between the two of you again. There are no words to describe the things his body is doing to yours and you're so sick of feeling out of control and completely under his influence.

You break away and his leg slips in between yours and his head rests on the crook of your neck. You bump your head on the wall and glare up at the ceiling. You didn't deserve to be thrown around like this and you are bitter and your don't know who you curse for this whole mess, but you curse anyway and it was probably out loud because John's heavy breathing stops and his mouth his on your ear, nipping and sucking on it and your world goes white.

"Vriska..." He moans it like he's about to start sobbing and your heart aches. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."

You stop all movement and as fast as he was on you, he's off and you are left in the dark corner blinking and completely at a loss for words. His touch lingers and you go into the bathroom to wash it all off and stare at yourself in the mirror. You will not get your hopes up this time. You will never expect this to happen again. That was the last time until he mans up and tells you what the hell his deal is.

The tears come a second time and you hate yourself for not having a thicker wall to hide behind.


	12. Finale

He doesn't say anything to you for the rest of the night. He won't even look at you. Everyone seems to have noticed the change in his mood because he is only asked if everything was okay once and he shut them up with a stare. You have never seen John look so serious before and there is a pang in your chest that tells you it's all your fault. Either way, it still doesn't suit his face and you feel obligated to fix things. But, you won't.

He doesn't sit next to you in the van and it hurts a lot but you deserve it. This is your punishment for whatever has gotten him so crazed and you will gladly take it if it means making him feel better. You know everyone feels the tension in the air but fuck them. They have no business in this and why can't they just ignore the two of you?!

When you get home, John goes straight to the bathroom and starts to shower and you go out onto the balcony just because it is the farthest point in the apartment from him and it's dark and private and you can think. Except, you don't want to.

What did he mean by the things he said? Nothing he's done or said has coincided with what he apparently feels about you. You're just a friend that is a girl that he can get his jimmies on with and you have to accept that. You never pegged John for being the type, but you figure that you can't judge a book by it's cover and everyone has their dark secrets. The real question is why you and why him?

You sigh and run your hand through your hair before you hear him rustling around in the kitchen. Sleeping tonight is going to be so awkward. You groan when you think of all the possibilities of events that could happen when you both turn in for the night. There could be a fight. Even though you have no idea what he would say exactly, you imagine John throwing passive-aggressive remarks at you while you try to go to sleep. That wouldn't end well because you know you wouldn't just roll over and take it. But, it's John. Can you honest-to-god fight back when you know this is basically all your fault? You want more than anything else to make him happy but what if you being around is the reason he's not and once you're out of the picture, he can go back to normal?

This is ridiculous. You are terrified of your own room, your own bed, and your own roommate. This is not how things should go, where is your confidence? Where is your pride? He has stripped you of everything that makes you who you are as a person and it's shitty and you are basically disgusted with yourself.

You need to start acting like Vriska again. Not this wimpy, frail little girl. Dominance, yes, that suits you much better. For the first time in a while, you smile and it's to yourself and that is the best way to do it. You are starting to get giddy from the pooling of self-importance in your being and now you are so ready to get in that bed with him that you almost run back into the apartment. But, no, not yet. You are going to play it cool.

__

By the time you're done showering, John is already in bed, facing the wall, probably pretending to sleep. You stop in your doorway but only for a second. You have to get your pjs and you're in your towel and dripping wet and this is embarrassing. You figured he'd be watching TV or something.

To go with your most ingenious plan, you pick out something more usual to your regular sleeping attire. For his sake, you had been wearing things that were more on the modest side but now, fuck it. Tank top, shorts. He can deal with it. And if it drives him that out of control, then good. You're sick of being the only one who can't handle the sexual tension the two of you had. This is your new mentality. You just hope and hope that luck is on your side.

You take your time getting ready because you need a little more time to give yourself one final pep talk. If he can take advantage of you when you least expect it, you can do the same to him. There is a balance and you think bitterly of how Terezi would be proud of you— dealing out the justice.

John's still facing the wall when you come back in and you cruse as you step on a D-8 that was somehow on your floor. You should really clean up after playing games. John stirs and you freeze completely and wait for him to settle down again. Your heart is racing which is stupid because this is all happening in your room. If you wanted to, you could kick him out.

You won't, you big softy.

You slowly sink onto the bed and wince at the loud squeaking that comes out of your mattress. John doesn't move, you continue to lay down. You stay face up on your back for an immeasurable amount of minutes until the urge finally hits you and you want to move, to touch him, to something! But you are hit with paralysis and moving is not an option. You have chickened out again and you bite back an angry groan. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

John moves and he's closer to you now than he was originally and you can feel the heat radiating from his body and you go wide eyed as you stare at his shadowed figure, unsure of what to do.

He flips onto his back and his shoulder is touching yours and fuck everything he is in a t-shirt and boxer briefs and he is not under the covers at all. Your eyes wander and it's not like anyone will know that you are checking out your roommate's junk, no harm, no foul.

You roll your eyes until they land on John's legs and you blush besides yourself and you aren't sure why. Maybe it's the whole forbidden voyeurism, maybe it's because he's so adorable and almost innocent without being that innocent that has your face warm and your stomach queasy. His leg twitches and you feel hot skin on yours.

'The lord is testing me...'

You bite your lower lip and glance around the room as if checking to see if anyone else is in there, which is completely moot but it makes you feel better and stalls time so that you can build up courage to do what you're about to do. You turn on your side so you are facing him and worry at your lip again. Your hand raises slightly and you hover it over John before softly placing it on his abdomen. His chest rises and sinks with his breathing and you go still again and watch his face very carefully to make sure he isn't awake.

After awhile of staring at his face (just to make sure he didn't wake up and not because you couldn't help it) you move your hand slowly down and feel the twitching of his sensitive stomach, the firmness of it, and your face heats up. This is some kinda weird kinky shit you are surprised you've never tried out before but none of your other suitors have been as elusive and confusing as John. You lick your lips and drag your fingers softly down his torso until you bump into the rim of his boxer briefs. You stop there and sneak another look at his face to make sure he was still out cold. He is. Carefully, you play with the waist band a little before slipping your fingers under and then your hand and your heart stops. You cannot believe you are about to molest your roommate while he's in your bed, unconscious.

Adrenaline rushes in your blood and you can feel your heart pick up as your hand slips lower and lower into his underwear. You hesitate when your finger tips hit wiry hair and you contemplate backing out but what good would that do you? And if he can follow you to the bathroom and suck your face off then you can give him a z job. It's only fair.

Your eyes slip back to John's face as his head turns slowly away from you, taking a deep breath. You still for a few moments and wait for his breathing to go even again before continuing your work.

Your fingers move down a little bit more again and you hit the mark. Your eyes glance back up at John's face as your fingers wrap around his length. You can feel it harden under your touch and this excites you immensely. You're doing it, man. You are making this hapen.

When you start to pump, your body presses against John's side on it's own and you start to breath heavily. This is the most sick, perverted thing you have ever done and you're okay with that. Like you've convinced yourself all night, he had this coming and you deserve this and that makes everything okay! Yeah! This is totally not something you could get in trouble for or ruin a friendship over! Nope!

The next time John moves, it's to push you on your back and pin you down. You squeal which is weird because you don't make noises like that, but the look on his face is almost predatorial and you are slightly terrified. You've been caught in the act, red handed— dick handed? Your blood runs cold and you can't even muster up the courage to speak as you just stare back into his eyes, like a deer in headlights. He is about to run you right over and you are too stupid to move.

Moments pass, as if both of you are trying to register what just happened and what should happen next. He's also holding you down and you can't move to run away in mortification, making it almost more awkward than it already is, if that's even possible. You can't take this anymore. Something has to happen. Maybe you should start by apologizing?

"John, I—" You stop when he leans in and presses his mouth to yours in a firm, short peck. When he pulls away you regret it and you try to lean up to reclaim that beautiful mouth but he is quicker than you are and your lips smash again. There is something feral and intense about this particular kiss and you can't help but note it. This is the kind of tongue tennis you like, it's rough and filled with passion and anything but tame.

John pulls away and huffs heavily into your ear before lowering down and pressing his body on top of yours, fully. You automatically arch into his and, wow you have not been this pleased with yourself in a few days. That is a record for you, by the way. You are usually your biggest fan and the last week or so of you beating yourself up and being sad and completely useless have really worn you down. But enough dwelling on the past, you have a boy to pay attention to right now-- and he is rutting against you and this is not something you should miss out on.

Gripping onto his shoulders, you move your body in time with his and a soft moan comes out of his mouth and he should be making noises like that more often. You could really get used to them.

This goes on for a while with short breaks for intense kissing and you really want to make this even more intimate but you are lucky to be where you are right now, all things considering and you don't want to push him. Man, you are so considerate. During this short time of rutting and heavy breathing and no conversation, you have succeeded in leaving long streaks down his back with your nails and little sickle marks on his ass from gripping far much harder than you should have. He doesn't seem to complain.

He finally stops moving his hips against yours and buries his head in the crook of your neck and his shoulders are hunched forward and he's fisted his hands in the sheets and you wonder if he already finished. After a second of wondering, you reach a hand up and place it on the back of his head and smooth his hair down, softly. You can't help the smile that spreads across your face and you are so very thankful that it is completely dark in the room because no one is allowed to see it. Not even John.

"Vriska... I... I'm really... uuhh, shit..." He keeps his face buried in your neck and you can feel his face pull into a grimace. Why was he apologizing? I mean... unless it was for stopping because you are definitely not ready to go to sleep. He has awoken the beast and he has yet to tame her.

"Hey..." You push up on his shoulder to get him to at least look at you and he turns his torso slightly so he can glance side-ways at you, but he doesn't say anything. "Why'd you stop." You are now out of patience and completely demanding right now. He will have to either explain himself or get back to being the cowboy to your horse.

He stares at you for a good minute and it is the longest minute of your life because you need to not be confused or horny... anymore.

"Vriska, I need to know... that I'm not some booty call for you."

"WHAT."

You push him off you and sit up and he looks shocked and you look shocked and, seriously, what the actual fuck?!

"Booty call?! Really, John?! Is that what you think of me? I'm like some slut who sleeps around and you just happen to be my next target because you live with me?!"

John looks at you with his huge eyes and you can see their color, even in the dark. You hate that. It's pushing away some of your anger and you need that right now.

"W-well... I mean... Wait, I'm not, then?" He looks legitimately surprised and that hurts. Did he really think of you in that light?

"Of course you're not! Why would you even think that?!" You are almost screaming and you try to ignore the crack in your voice and you blink back the tears that are threatening to spill over. This is completely ridiculous.

He doesn't say anything but you can see his brows bunched up in confusion and you sigh, running your fingers through your hair and bringing your knees up to your chest to hug them. "I don't... just mess around like this with anyone... and why would I fuck with my roommate unless I had a reason behind it?" You sneak a glance at his face and you can't tell what his expression means but it's not angry or sad looking anymore. That's a relief.

"So... then what is the reason?" When he asks, he's staring down at the bed sheets.

"The... The reason?" He nods, but doesn't look up from the bed.

You look down, too. What is the reason? Well, you're attracted to him, for one. That's the obvious thing. But telling him that doesn't seem like it'd work in your favor since it didn't work the first time around when he rejected you.

No, it was something deeper, you think. It was at least enough to want to date him. You suppose the real question is, was rejection what made you take this so hard or was it because your feelings are very serious about him?

Did you love... No. That is the taboo word. That word is reserved for favorite foods and songs and movies. That is not the kind of word you use to describe people, unless it's yourself, of course. You couldn't possibly love John Egbert, could you? You roll the thought around in your head for a bit and it doesn't seem as bad as you thought it could be.

What if it's true?

What if you did love him?

Would that really be the end of the world? Would you really be that prone to heartbreak if you were to admit it to him? You have already gone through the grieving of not getting who you want that just a little 4 letter word couldn't possibly make it worse. And if anyone should know, it should be the boy in question.

This makes sense.

You look up at him with new determination and you feel deja vu. He blinks and stares at you, patiently. You hope to god he likes what he's about to hear and you wish yourself good luck.

"I think... No, wait. I know that I am definitely... definitely in love with you." See, that wasn't so hard. "There isn't really anyone else I'd rather think about... a-and I would like to be around you more often and enjoy my time with you and I don't want to stop sharing a bed with you..." you trail off because he's gotten closer and it makes you nervous, but all he does his lean in and press his forehead to yours and his face looks almost angelic. Your heart speeds up slightly and you wonder if this is what hope feels like.

"Yeah? What else?" He smirks but his eyes are closed. You swallow a thick lump in your throat.

"Uuhh... John, I don't think I can handle not being with you. I tried all this time and it is not working." You try to stare at his face but it's hard without going cross-eyed because of proximity so you settle for staring down at his crotch. Wow, bad idea. You look up again.

"That's what I wanted to hear."

"What." You feel your face falling into a scowl.

He pulls away and smiles sweetly at you. "I needed to know that you weren't just playing around with me. If I'm going to date a girl, she has to be at least just as committed as I am, right? Haha." He chuckles and you want to hit him for all the problems he's caused you but wait! Did this mean that he wanted to date you? Why are you just thinking this, ask him, you idiot.

"D-Does that mean... you... you like me, too?"

"A whole lot, actually." That endearing smile hits you right in the gut and you want to throw in the towel. You cannot compete in sweetness and he deserves a girl that is nice and good and everything you aren't. You are going to taint him.

"Are you serious?"

"As the plague." He raises his hand and closes his eyes, swearing to everything fake which is hilarious to you and you laugh and he laughs and the tension is slowly lifting.

"So, does that mean the elusive bachelor John Egbert is ready to settling down with a young miss?" You wriggle your eyebrows at him and he mocks you.

"I just might, who are my choices?" He scoots closer.

"Well, your choices are me and just me..." You lean in and your eyes have slid half-way closed, you can't help but stare at his lips.

"I guess that's a pretty good spread to choose from..." And he closes the gap, pecking you on the mouth a few times before cupping your face with his hands and deepening the kiss.

With everything sorted out and the uneasiness completely lifted, you are able to enjoy his presence stress free and it is so much better than the anxiety of not knowing what he felt.

You pull him down with you as you fall backwards and he laughs and it is so darling. You have never engaged in such sappy, cliche, fuzzy-inside inducing sex before, but you don't complain. Through hard work and just being true to yourself, you have succeeded in catching the boy you love and making him into a man.


End file.
